5. Jace
FIVE
JACE
Whatever actually went down between them, I have to know. When Payton went over to his table, her discomfort was obvious. She seemed more beaten down than I could recall her ever being, shoulders almost to her ears. Then they started speaking to one another, their tones too low for me to catch, and he fucking touched her. His hand on her wrist, uninvited, nearly had me over there, if not for her quick reaction when she shrugged him off.
It signals the switch inside her: gone is the spooked bunny guise and out comes the wolf. Her motions become jerky, their tones rising ever so slightly. Based on his annoyed expression and barely concealed rage, he isn’t liking what she’s saying. It’s the concealed anger making me tense, ready to react the moment he lifts a hand to her again. Anger isn’t something to joke about, especially when not reined in appropriately.
Once Payton finishes filling their mugs and pivots to return to the counter, Aaron loudly announces they need to leave. Despite the fresh drinks her job forced her to pour, they begin filing from the booth.
Dicks. But the sooner they fuck off, the sooner she’ll no longer have to stress about people undeserving of her breath.
The two guys who were seated across from Aaron leave first, but not before one of them pulls a blue five-dollar bill from his wallet to pay for both drinks. At two dollars a coffee, that leaves her with a minuscule tip. Payton deserves their entire fucking credit balance after putting up with their asses.
Aaron stands, letting the fourth guy out of the booth. Once he joins the others who all exit the diner together, Aaron sneers down at Payton, saying something I don’t catch. Whatever it is makes her cheeks flush, and she backs away with a glare.
As Aaron goes to leave, his arm swipes at the full mug, sending it shattering onto the floor. Shards of white ceramic scatter across the tiles, and hot liquid spills everywhere in a pool of black. Some splashes on the cuffs of Payton’s jeans, and she hops back with a hiss. The diner falls deathly silent as the few other patrons observe the spectacle. It’s so silent, I can practically hear the tears of frustration and anger brewing behind Payton’s eyes.
Rage erupts within me. I snag the rag she was previously wiping the counter with and cross the room to shove between them, grabbing Aaron’s collar without another thought. My other fist slams into his face, my punch filled with the animosity I’ve had for him since we were twelve-fucking-years-old, when he opened his mouth about my father’s business being less respectable than his own father’s as mayor. My second punch is a tribute to high school, when I was forced to witness him hurt Payton’s heart time after fucking time. Years of pent-up resentment has him screeching in pain like a little bitch, not bothering to swing back.
Payton yells something that sounds like, “Stop!” She’s doing what she’s always done for this asshole: trying to maintain the peace. He gave her up and doesn’t deserve her kindness any longer. Not that he ever really did.
I release his collar to shove the cloth into his chest, the force behind my action sending him stumbling against the table. “Clean it up, asshole.”
“Fuck you, Hayes.” He spits a glob of clotted blood onto the floor and rubs at his cheek, now a vibrant red, then makes the mistake of trying to go around me.
“Whoa, whoa, men, break it up or get the hell out of here!” Jim, the diner’s co-owner, nudges between us, his glare heavy on us both until I drop my arm, turning to scowl at the elderly man.
“Your guests are harassing your waitress.”
Weathered eyes dart to where Payton stands somewhere behind me. Given Jim’s hardening expression, I can only assume she signalled to him my words are true. With pinched lips, he takes the cloth from me. “Even so, I can’t have you treating this place like it’s somewhere for a bar brawl. Mr. Bennett, please leave.”
Aaron casts a sneer my way as he passes. “Liked that, did you? Playing the white knight?” He’s gone before I can react, shouldering a hanging paper egg out of his way.
The tension in the air fizzles until an awkward silence remains, broken only by my heavy breathing and Jim asking Payton, “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll grab a mop.” She skitters to the back room.
Jim eyes me standing amidst the mug’s remains and pool of coffee. “Do I need to toss you out as well?”
“As long as the prick stays the fuck out of her way, then no.”
He frowns out the window at where Aaron and his friends are stalking away. “I don’t disagree, and thank you for intervening, but I can’t have people causing trouble in here.” He heads to the back room as Payton returns, pushing a mop bucket.
I grab it from her, and she immediately tries to steal it back. “Uh, no?—”
“Go clean yourself up.”
“This is my job.” She reaches for the mop again, but I swing it to the side and out of her grasp.
“Your job is to serve customers, not clean up after exes who have no respect. Go on. Take a break. If anyone comes in, I’ll let them know you’ll be a minute.”
Right now, I dare someone to say shit about her impromptu break.
Her behaviour of conceding is the same as in the past: two rapid blinks and a sigh. “Fine, but it’s not your job either. Leave it, and I’ll clean when I get back.”
“Go, Payton.” Finished arguing my case, I give her my back and start squeezing excess water from the mophead with the bucket.
Cleaning the spilled coffee goes quickly. I return the mop and bucket to the back room, leaving it just inside the swinging door before grabbing the broom and dustpan in the corner. Jim says nothing as I shuffle around his kitchen, gathering what I need, then returning moments later with the swept-up ceramic shards.
“That was kind of you,” he says, taking the dustpan from me.
I’m heading back to my seat, where my abandoned coffee still sits, as Payton returns, her face damp and stray strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Coffee is still evident on her pants, but hopefully, it’ll be a bit less uncomfortable for the remainder of her shift.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I wanted to. Someone had to stand up to him.”
Her lips pinch. “That someone should have been me, not you.”
“You’ve had years of dealing with him. Maybe it was my turn.”
Her eyes flick to where my hand is wrapped around the mug, my knuckles red and splitting—injuries well worth it. They highlight the large, white scar across the back of my hand, homage to a mistake made on the job two years ago.
“I can get you something for that if you’d like.”
“It’s fine. I’ll get more beat up at work.” Fuck, work. I slide my cell from my jeans, checking the time. Fuck Bennett for stealing all my time with her. “I have to go, unfortunately. Bad form if the boss is late. Can I get two coffees to go please? Both black.”
“Sure.” She gives me her back while preparing two to-go coffees in paper cups before turning back to face me and resting them in front of me.
“What time do you get off?”
She stills, her debate practically written on her face. Her mind is racing, and no doubt her heart is as well. Hopefully, it won’t be the only time I make her heart race.
“Five. Why?”
“My time with you was stolen, and it’s been entirely too long, Thorne. I’ve missed seeing your face, and I’m not willing to go another few years without it. Before you up and move a second time without a goodbye, I want to see you again.”
Her lips part, a tease of her tongue against her bottom lip making my dick twitch. She has no damn idea what she does to my sanity. “Uh, I’m not sure… I mean, I’m not?—”
I end her uncertainty by resting my hand over hers. “To chat, Payton, nothing more.” Yet. “Seeing you today was a fuckin’ shock, that’s all. I just wanna catch up. You okay with that?”
She stares for a long moment before lowering her head in a barely there nod, but I’ll take it. Her skittishness is half her charm—when she’s flustered and not shutting down from shitty exes. My smile is genuine as I stand and throw a red fifty on the counter, paying for my two coffees, Brad’s, Aaron’s because he didn’t, and a decent tip for all of us.
“Have a good day, Payton. Don’t take people’s shit.”
Generally, I get really focused on work, but today…today isn’t it. Five o’clock can’t come fast enough.
Brad notices and trails me to my truck, where I triple check a few details on the blueprints we were given to follow.
“So…” He reaches for his coffee, now cold, resting on my open truck bed. “You saw Payton this morning.”
“Yeah.”
He waits a few seconds. “And?”
“And what? Her stupid ex caused trouble and intentionally knocked a fresh cup of coffee all over the floor. So I punched him. Twice.”
He coughs around the plastic lid. “Man, you can’t be acting like that. She can fight her own battles. She’s not the girl you liked back then. You can’t tell me you’ve spent all these years pining after her, waiting for this chance.”
“Obviously not. She left to live her life, and I lived mine.” We were two old acquaintances without a reason to communicate, but now that she’s back, things are different. “We were friends, you know that. Now, it’s two old friends hanging out.”
“No.” He leans over, blocking the blueprints with his hand until I’m forced to give up studying them. “I remember you were in fuckin’ love with the girl, but you hid it behind that weird relationship you called friendship. The one where you acted like cats fighting all the time.”
Old memories bring a smile to my face.
“Look,” he sighs, drawing the word out. “Be careful. I’d hate to see you hurt when she up and leaves again. Why not start with the egg hunt this weekend? Get her to go to that.”
“Hate that thing.” Can’t recall the last time I participated. Hunting for little ceramic eggs isn’t my idea of fun.
But it does give me an idea for something else—a different kind of game I can play with Payton. One that might help her out of that shell of hers, if what Bennett said about her last night is true.
First, I’ll need to get her to tell me what went down between her and Bennett without being obvious about it.
“Maybe.”
After a final sip of his drink, he returns to work, and I finish examining the blueprints. My mind slips away, once again, this time to a stool across from a tentative little rabbit.